


Scientific Variables

by stjarna



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Academy Era, Bi!Fitzsimmons, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Mention of bisexuality, Secret Santa Exchange, Tumblr: thefitzsimmonsnetwork, mention of homosexuality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-22 13:00:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13167441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stjarna/pseuds/stjarna
Summary: Written for the Fitzsimmons Secret Santa exchange 2017.Prompt: Fitzsimmons get together before joining the team.





	Scientific Variables

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Florchis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Florchis/gifts).



> Thanks to the wonderful @dilkirani and @lilsciencequeen for the beta.
> 
> Banner by me.

 

Fitz looked up from his project when Simmons stormed into the lab. He pushed his magnifying goggles up, watching her hang up her jacket and grab her lab coat instead.

“Sorry I’m late.” She rushed over to their workbench, rolling her eyes in discontent. “Professor Wheeler can’t keep to a time schedule to save her life.”

“No worries.” Fitz waved her off. “I tinkered with my independent study project for Hughes in the meantime. Coming along swimmingly.”

“Oh.” Simmons glanced curiously at the half-finished design while she redid her ponytail. “That looks very promising indeed.”

“Yep.” Fitz smiled proudly, before taking off his goggles and placing them next to his project, watching Simmons pull out her notes from her bag. “So, how was your date last night?”

Simmons froze in her movements. She cleared her throat, setting her notes down on the workbench in slow motion. When she looked up, her lips pulled into a smile that looked rather forced, and her eyes never quite met Fitz’s.

“It was great, good, fine.” With each adjective Simmons’ voice and level of enthusiasm sunk just a bit.

Fitz pulled one corner of his mouth up, scrunching his nose. “That bad, eh?”

“Ugh.” Simmons slumped her shoulders. “It wasn’t bad, per se. It was just not what I expected. That’s all.”

Fitz squinted. “What did you expect?”

“Well—” Simmons shrugged, “Chad has a certain reputation. He seems to enjoy going out with highly desirable women and he’s always more than vocal about his success at said dates.”

Fitz grimaced in disgust. “You wanted to shag Chad Russell?”

“What?” Simmons exclaimed in disbelief. “Gosh, no. Not shag. Just—just—”

“What?” Fitz asked, maybe a tad louder than he’d intended.

Simmons slumped her shoulders, rolling her eyes. “I’ve never been kissed, and I’m getting a bit tired of that.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” Simmons replied, her tone a bit peeved. “I realize maybe it’s a bit silly, but I’m eighteen and hormones are sprouting and, quite frankly, this hormone-induced growing obsession with romantic and sexual relationships has started to distract me from my professional goals, which is really quite annoying, and so I thought if I quenched my hormone-ridden—”

Fitz shuddered in discomfort. “Can you stop repeating the word ‘hormone’? I think I got it.”

But his interjection went unnoticed as Simmons continued unfazed.

“—I thought if I quenched my natural adolescent curiosity—”

“—by kissing the biggest numbnut of the Academy?” Fitz pointed indignantly towards the door, furrowing his brow disapprovingly.

“—then I could finally relax and refocus on what’s really important: my academic and professional career,” Simmons continued, placing one hand on her hip, and gesturing at Fitz with the other. “I mean, you of all people should understand there’s a great amount of societal pressure on young adults to have certain romantic experiences, preferably by a certain age—which we’ve surpassed—and when those experiences are not met, you may either be the subject of ridicule for being inexperienced and/or you get a bit frustrated yourself.”

Fitz’s jaw had slackened more and more as Simmons continued her never-ending and fast-paced rant, but his brain needed a moment to come up with a reply. “What do you mean ‘ _You_ of all people’?” he asked, wide-eyed and annoyed.

“Well, you’ve never been kissed either,” Simmons replied matter-of-factly.

Fitz lifted his shoulders. “Says who?”

Simmons gestured at him, palm up. “Well, you said you’ve never been in a romantic relationship.”

Fitz crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Doesn’t mean I’ve never kissed anyone.”

Simmons dropped her shoulders, huffing quietly. “You know very well that I did _not_ mean kissing a relative on the cheek.”

Fitz threw one hand in the air. “Bloody hell, I know, Simmons. That’s not what I meant either.”

Simmons placed both hands on her hips, staring at Fitz questioningly. “ _You’ve_ kissed someone?”

“Yes.” Fitz bobbed his head in confirmation.

Simmons eyed him sideways. “Did you hire a prostitute?”

Fitz gasped in shock, his mouth hanging open until he found his bearings. “What the actual—? _No!_ ” He pressed his index and middle fingers against his temples. “Have you gone completely mental?”

“Well, you said you’ve never—” Simmons tried to interject, but Fitz disarmed her with a single-word bark.

“Moira.”

Simmons’ eyes widened in surprise. “What?”

“Moira,” Fitz repeated more quietly.

“Moira?” Simmons wrinkled her forehead.

Fitz nodded. “Yes my—”

“—childhood friend,” Jemma recalled.

“Exactly.”

Simmons raised her eyebrows. “You kissed Moira?”

“Yes.”

“Really kissed?” Jemma squinted, skeptically.

Fitz rolled his eyes, slowly losing his patience. “Yes.”

“With tongue?” Jemma continued her interrogation.

Fitz grimaced slightly. “Yes.”

Simmons’ eyes wandered side-to-side and she pondered his replies. Then she stared back at him, in confusion. “Didn’t you say she was—?”

“Gay?” Fitz couldn’t stop one corner of his mouth from ticking up into a slight grin.

“Yes.” Simmons bobbed her head.

Fitz shrugged. “She is.”

“So, was that before—?” Jemma drew a half-circle in the air with her index finger as if to turn back time on a clock.

Fitz scoffed. “She was always gay,” he replied, matter-of-factly. “She just wasn’t always sure about it.”

Once again, Jemma’s brow furrowed. “So was this a dare of sorts?”

“No.”

Simmons crossed her arms in front of her chest, glaring at Fitz discontentedly. “Are we playing twenty questions?”

Fitz rolled his eyes, groaning quietly. “It wasn’t a dare. It was more… it was more of a scientific experiment or something.”

“Or something?” Jemma parroted, doing a terrible job of imitating Fitz.

Fitz dropped his head back briefly and sighed. He massaged his forehead for a moment, before looking back at Simmons. “We were fifteen. Moira had just visited family in Ireland. Her cousin had a friend, a female friend. And she and Moira got along swimmingly, and they… and they kissed and when Moira came back she was super excited about it but also super confused because—well, she’d never been kissed and she wasn’t sure if she was just excited because she got kissed or—”

“Or because she kissed a girl,” Jemma concluded.

“Exactly.” Fitz nodded in confirmation, before gesturing at Jemma. “I mean, we lived in a small town in rural Scotland. Being bi or a lesbian isn’t exactly something—”

“—talked about.” Jemma bobbed her head in understanding.

Fitz shook his head. “Exactly. Moira was confused and nervous, and so I offered that she could kiss me and then she’d know what it’s like to kiss a boy and maybe that would help her figure it out.”

“And so you kissed?” Jemma asked, her eyes wide but curious.

“Yes.”

“With tongue?”

Fitz grimaced again. “For the last time: yes.”

“And she—?”

“—knew that she definitely preferred kissing girls.”

“And you—?” Jemma gestured at Fitz, who looked to the ground, tapping the floor with the tip of his shoe.

“—knew that I definitely preferred _not_ kissing her.”

“But you’re not—?”

Fitz shrugged. “Let’s call me undecided. Or open to either.”

Jemma pursed her lips. “Alright. Okay. So… Interesting.”

Fitz lifted his shoulders, not really seeing the fascination of his story.

Simmons paused for a moment, seemingly pondering everything she’d just heard. “So your first kiss was with your lesbian best friend.”

Fitz pressed his lips into a thin line, fanning his arms to the side. “So what?”

“It’s just—” Simmons stopped, more thoughtful lines appearing on her forehead. “Most people consider their first kiss something special.”

“It was,” Fitz replied, before grimacing slightly. “I mean it was disgusting, but… but it was also something special.”

“But you didn’t love her.”

“Sure I do.”

“But not romantically,” Jemma added, a hint of sadness in her tone.

“So what?” Fitz exclaimed more loudly and more annoyed than he’d intended.

“But—”

“Simmons!” Fitz interrupted, pressing his palms together. “You’re so desperate to be kissed that you wanted to—” He formed air quotes. “—‘get it over with’ with Chad-bloody-Russell.” He threw one hand in the air, placing the other firmly on his hip. “Let’s face it, I think statistically speaking, the people who end up with the person they first kiss are in the vast, vast, _vast_ minority. So why should it matter so much?”

Fitz gestured at himself, taking advantage of Simmons’ speechlessness. “I’d rather have my first kiss be with my best friend whom I love strictly platonically to help her come to an important conclusion, than with some dimwit whose name I might not even remember twenty years later.”

Simmons rolled her eyes ever so slightly, but in the way Fitz knew she was about to begrudgingly admit defeat. “Well, when you put it that way.”

“Yes.” Fitz bobbed his head in confirmation. “That’s how I put it. So, stop stressing out about this bloody first-kiss business or about societal pressure and expectations.”

Jemma sighed, lowering her head and mumbling towards the floor. “I can’t believe you’ve kissed someone and I haven’t.”

Fitz dropped his head back in disbelief, raising both hands towards the ceiling. “Oh, for crying out loud.” He balled his fists, staring at Simmons. “Not everything’s a competition, Simmons! And if it’s so bloody important to you—” He threw one hand in the air, before pressing his fingers against his chest. “—then _I’ll_ kiss you.”

Simmons’ eyes doubled in size and she shrieked a surprised. “ _What?”_

“ _I’ll_ kiss you,” Fitz repeated, still gesturing at himself, before dismissively waving his hand towards the door. “I’d say I’m one heck of a better choice than Chad Russell.”

Simmons eyed Fitz up and down, pursing her lips contemplatively. “Well.”

Fitz stared back at her, wide-eyed and expectant.

Eventually, Simmons puffed determinedly through her nose, nodding once. “Well, I suppose that could work.”

Fitz shrugged. “Alright.”

Simmons’ eyes widened and she pointed to the floor. “Here?”

Fitz lifted his shoulders, glancing around the lab. “Fine by me.”

Simmons cleared her throat, crossing her arms protectively in front of her chest. “Okay. Alright,” she muttered, noticeably flustered. “So, how do we do this?”

Fitz knew that his attempt to disguise his chuckle as a cough wasn’t very successful. He tried not to smirk, as he gestured up and down Simmons. “For starters, you might want to relax your body language a little.”

Simmons looked down and quickly uncrossed her arms but her fingers still fidgeted with each other. “Right. So. What do I do?”

Fitz sighed. “You’re really sure about this?”

“Yes.” Simmons bobbed her head.

“Okay. Then.” Fitz cleared his throat and took a step closer. “Close your eyes.”

Simmons took half a step back, raising her index finger questioningly. “Why?”

Fitz raised his eyebrows, sighing quietly. “Do you trust me?” he asked softly.

Simmons’ expression relaxed. She exhaled sharply and closed her eyes. She flinched slightly when Fitz cupped her face, her eyes shooting open in panic.

Fitz removed his hands from her cheeks, framing her face instead. He smiled warmly. “We don’t have to, Simmons.”

The corners of her mouth ticked up into a shy smile and she shook her head. “No. It’s alright. I just—You just startled me,” she explained breathlessly.

Fitz looked at her wide-eyed. “Try again?”

Simmons smiled, nodding in agreement.

“Close your eyes,” Fitz repeated quietly and Simmons’ eyelids fluttered shut.

Fitz pressed his palms back against her cheeks, gliding his thumbs across her cheekbones. “Alright, Simmons,” Fitz whispered. “I will ask you one last time: are you sure?”

“Yes,” she breathed, barely audibly.

Fitz closed the gap between them, but her lips remained tight and every muscle in her body seemed tense. Fitz interrupted their kiss. “Relax,” he whispered against her mouth, before kissing her again.

Her lips felt softer now, gently dancing across his. Her fingers wrapped around the nape of Fitz’s neck, playing with his curls, pulling his mouth closer against hers. Fitz felt his stomach tighten, heat rushing through his body. He angled his head, chasing after Simmons’ lips, letting his tongue brush against her upper lip. Her lips parted and another electric jolt raced through Fitz when their tongues met, molding against each other, making his head spin.

He broke their kiss, opening his eyes in surprise and looking for a moment breathlessly at Simmons, who looked almost angelic, her eyes closed and an expression of serenity adorning her face.

 _That felt nothing like kissing Moira_ , Fitz thought and the unexpected realization caused his hands to dart away from Simmons’ face as if her skin had burnt them.

Simmons opened her eyes, staring back at Fitz as if she felt as dizzy as him.

Fitz cleared his throat and took a step back, gesturing nonchalantly at Simmons. “There you go. First kiss. Done.”

Simmons nodded, her eyes wide and her lips slightly parted. “Yep. Done. Excellent,” she stammered.

“So.” Fitz took a deep breath, his eyes wandering frantically around the room, finally landing on their workbench. He cleared his throat again, pointing at Simmons’ notebook. “Ready to work on our project?”

“Our pro—? Our project?” Simmons asked, seemingly flustered, before nodding vigorously. “Yes. Most certainly.”

* * *

“Hey,” Fitz announced himself as he walked into the lab.

Simmons looked up from her microscope, smiling at him in her usual welcoming way. “Hey!”

Fitz unzipped his jacket and hung it on the coat rack, grabbing his lab coat instead. He paused for a moment, gazing at Simmons, who’d returned to examining her sample. A large strand of her long wavy hair fell off her shoulder, and she tucked it back behind her ear without ever losing focus on her work. One corner of Fitz’s mouth ticked up and he tried to ignore the slight flutter in his stomach, which he’d started to notice ever since… well, ever since.

Fitz exhaled sharply, tugged his shirt down and walked up to the workbench, clearing his throat. “So, how was your date last night?”

Simmons looked up wide-eyed, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear that wasn’t even there. “It was great, good, fine.” With each adjective Simmons’ voice and level of enthusiasm sunk just a bit.

Fitz pulled one corner of his mouth up, scrunching his nose. “Again???” he exclaimed in disbelief.

Simmons slumped her shoulders. “Ugh. I… I don’t know.” She sighed, gesturing towards the door. “Unlike Chad, I actually really like Joy. Her research on patterns of clinical toxicity after methiopropamine use is really quite fascinating. She’s visually rather pleasing as well. We had a lovely evening. She chose a restaurant that fulfilled four of my five-point checklist. The movie was quite entertaining. She walked me back to my dorm room. We kissed. And yet—”

She stopped, looking at Fitz with a rather disappointed and pitiful expression.

Fitz shrugged, trying to smile at her reassuringly but only mustering a half-hearted, one-sided smile. “Maybe sometimes it’s just not right even though everything fits in theory. Mum always says the heart wants what the heart wants.”

Simmons scrunched her nose, causing her forehead to wrinkle. “That’s a bit cliché.”

Fitz scoffed briefly, lifting his shoulders. “Yeah, well, maybe it’s a cliché that’s true.”

Jemma sighed deeply, forcing a rather unconvincing smile. “Oh well. More time to focus on our research, isn’t it?”

Fitz bobbed his head in agreement. “Exactly.”

* * *

Fitz looked up from his laptop when he heard the door to the lab swing open and crash against the wall with a loud bang.

“Hey, how did the date with Gibbs—?” Fitz started out when he noticed Simmons’ furious eyes as she stormed towards him with wild determination.

She stopped right in front of him, placing her hands on her hips, her nostrils practically fuming.

Fitz stared at her wide-eyed and slightly panicked, frozen to the spot. He quickly went over the last few days in his head, trying to figure out what he’d done wrong to invoke Simmons’ wrath.

Simmons’ jaw looked uncomfortably tense. She huffed out an angry breath. “Kiss me,” she suddenly barked.

Fitz’s jaw dropped and his eyes widened even more. “What??”

“You have to kiss me again,” Simmons demanded, her hands beginning to gesture wildly in front of Fitz’s face as she spoke almost too fast for Fitz’s brain to follow. “I have to know what you did differently, because Jeremy kissed me, and as far as I can tell he had a technique very similar to yours, and I’m quite certain I did everything exactly the same, and yet there were no butterflies, no electricity rushing through my body, it felt _nothing_ like when you kissed me and so you need to kiss me again so I can figure out what variables I’m miss—”

She stopped herself, her eyes suddenly doubling in size and her mouth gaping ajar. Fitz knew his expression mirrored hers in every aspect. His head was spinning.

_Did Simmons just—?_

“Oh,” Simmons stammered, nodding in slow motion. Her eyes were fixed on Fitz as if some kind of unexplainable force made it impossible for her to look away.

“Oh,” she repeated, and Fitz noticed how her chest heaved quicker, as if she were fighting an anxiety attack.

Simmons opened and closed her mouth a few times without actually making any sound, before chuckling awkwardly. “Of course.” She cleared her throat. “Of course, the variable is—” She gestured absentmindedly at Fitz, and it looked as if her hand had acted on reflex more than the motion being intentional.

“Oh,” she muttered again, another anxious breath escaping her parted lips. She cleared her throat, furrowing her brow and Fitz could see her eyes welling up.

Somewhere in the back of his head a voice was screaming at him to do something, say something, but his body wouldn’t move, wouldn’t speak, wouldn’t react.

“I’m so sorry, Fitz.” Simmons pressed her palm against her chest. “I… I didn’t mean to… It was never my intention… I had no idea that I could possibly—” She was practically hyperventilating now, once again clearing her throat, before pressing her lips into a thin line.

She exhaled a shaky breath. “I have to go.”

* * *

Jemma turned around and rushed for the door, ignoring Fitz calling after her. She ran to her dorm, barely registering the cadets whose curious and confused eyes followed her. She struggled opening the door to her room, her hands trembling, making it next to impossible to get the key into the lock. Once she was inside, she slammed the door shut and finally allowed her tears to run freely. She leaned against the door, sliding down the smooth surface until her bum hit the floor. She pulled her legs closer, wrapping her arms protectively around her knees, and sobbed. She dropped her head back, ignoring the dull pain when it hit the door.

Fitz. Fitz was the one variable that was different. Fitz was the variable that made her stomach churn and butterflies fly and her heart race and her lips long for more. Fitz. Her best friend. Her best, platonic friend who saw her as nothing more than—

A knock on the door interrupted Jemma’s thoughts. Her eyes shot open in panic as she listened carefully.

“Simmons?” Fitz’s voice was quiet, full of concern.

Jemma sniffled, blinking away a few more tears, unsure of what to do.

“Jemma?” His tone was even softer now, warm, pleading almost.

Jemma’s lips twitched into a sad smile. Maybe she hadn’t ruined their friendship after all with her stupid realization. She wiped her tears away with the heels of her hands and pushed herself up to standing. She exhaled a cleansing breath, turning around and opening the door, forcing a smile.

“Hey,” she managed to say.

Fitz bit his lower lip, his eyes looking intensely at her, as if he were pondering an important question. He inhaled deeply. “Do you want to go out for dinner?”

“What?” Jemma squinted in confusion, feeling her heart beat faster.

“Do you want to go out for dinner?” Fitz repeated, a bit more confidently.

“Dinner?”

“Yeah.” Fitz nodded, gesturing between the two. “You. Me. Someplace… someplace nice.”

“Oh.” Jemma’s eyes widened. She opened and closed her lips a few times. “You mean to say—”

“A date.” A smile flashed across Fitz’s face, but disappeared just as quickly, replaced by nervousness.

“I’m confused.” Jemma rubbed her forehead. “Are you mocking me?”

Fitz shook his head, his lips slightly parted.

“Pitying me?”

Once again, Fitz’s head turned side-to-side. He’d seemingly lost the ability to speak.

“Or are you—?” Jemma tried to continue when Fitz interrupted her.

“Serious,” he blurted out. “I’m serious. Very serious.”

“Oh.” Jemma raised one eyebrow, curiously. “But—”

“Look,” Fitz interjected, lifting his shoulders. “I… I don’t want you to think that I’ve always felt this way and I offered to kiss you just so that I could kiss you, because… because that’s not it. That’s definitely not it.” He gestured at himself. “I… I really and honestly just wanted to help out a friend, but… but when I kissed you it was _nothing_ like kissing Moira. It was as if—”

“—everything fell into place?” Jemma couldn’t stop her lips from ticking up into a hopeful smile.

“Yeah,” Fitz admitted quietly, looking adoringly at her.

“Why didn’t you—?” Jemma asked, barely above a whisper.

Fitz shrugged. “Until five minutes ago, I didn’t think you felt the same.”

“Huh,” Jemma muttered, pursing her lips.

“So? Dinner?” Fitz looked at her wide-eyed, a shy smile dancing across his face.

Jemma smiled widely at the thought, but suddenly her mind was flooded with anxiety. She fell silent, her gaze wandering to the floor.

“What?” Fitz asked quietly and full of concern.

“It’s just—” Jemma looked up, forcing herself to meet his eyes. “What you said, about… about statistics and the likelihood of actually being with the person you first kiss forever.” She shrugged. “I… I mean, statistically speaking, the chances of us—”

“Simmons.” Fitz ticked his head to one side, his tone soft.

“I mean,” Jemma continued unfazed by his interjection, “what if we… what if this… and then I’ll lose you as a friend, too, and—”

Fitz took her hand, gazing straight into her eyes. “You’ll never lose me as a friend.” He smiled reassuringly, but the optimistic shimmer in his eyes wasn’t quite enough to wash away Jemma’s worries.

Fitz scoffed, unexpectedly, his thumb gliding across her knuckles. “And you weren’t my first kiss, so… so that should increase our odds already.”

Jemma let out a quiet chuckle. “Fitz.”

“Please, Jemma.” Fitz reached out, grabbing her other hand as well, squeezing both gently. “Don’t stop this before it’s even started because of one stupid statistic I mentioned.” He lifted his shoulders to his ears. “Sometimes, science is about beating the odds, doing what others think is impossible.”

Jemma sighed, unable to stop herself from smiling.

“Plus,” Fitz continued, his eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief, “in your little socio-romantic experiment, it looks like so far _I’ve_ given you the best results.”

Jemma laughed. She wet her lips, before pressing them into a thin line. “Would be a shame not to test that theory further, I suppose.”

Fitz’s face lit up. “So. Dinner?”

Jemma grinned ear to ear. She freed one of her hands, pressing her palm gently against Fitz’s cheek, and leaned up to kiss him softly but briefly. She sighed, gazing into his mesmerizing blue eyes. “Yes, dinner.”

**Author's Note:**

> I snuck in one of my head canons for Fitz and my OC Moira. I hope you didn't mind ;)
> 
> P.S. I also had the headcanon that Fitz comes from a really small Scottish town. Since canon kinda destroyed that, I changed my headcanon on that Fitz's mum moved from Glasgow to a small town after Fitz's dad left. Just roll with it ;)


End file.
